Deadline
by xtinemay20
Summary: Celeste Michelson has been split up from her group and family. She comes upon the West Georgia Correctional Facility (the prison). She doesn't bond easily with the group at first but can find a hate-friendship with Carl Grimes, and starts to have a regrettable relationship with him. Gets better after first chapter! Carl/OC.
1. Strangers

**K guys. This is my first chapter. hope you like it! *i don't own any of the TWD characters or whatever...***

I open the blue car door. I grab my army green bag and duffel and jump out of the car. I sprint up to the prison fence and search for the gate. I can see a movement in the red watchtower. I glance to my right and see the gate, but the area around it is crawling with walkers. I take my chances and run towards it. I flash by two or three walkers that take little interest in me. I reach into my army jacket and find my array of throwing knives. I grasp for three of them. I grab one by the hilt and fling it at a walker in a police uniform. The knife sticks it right between the eyes. I do this two more times with walkers closer to the fence. I reach the gate only to see a padlock on a chain wound around the opening. I look around desperately for another opening. I run along the fence. Nothing. There are only two choices left. Get bitten and turn or climb the fence and risk injury. I do the ladder. I stick the toes of my combat boots in the rungs of the fence, one after another. I make it to the top and look down. There are about five walkers below me grasping up and making groaning sounds. I reach my leg down and kick one in the head. My boot makes a horrible _shthuck_ sound as it goes into the walker's head. I pull it back out and the walker drops down the ground, its head open with brains and blood oozing out slowly. I feel bad for whoever that once was. I look back up and see the barbed wire winding around the top of the fence. I try to grab for a spot that isn't spiky One of the walkers grabs my leg and my hand slips. My palm lands on a spike. I bite my lip and kick my leg free from the walker's grasp. I then pull myself up higher, pushing my hand into the spike even more. I put my other hand on the wire. I look behind me and see more walkers emerging from the woods. Now the pin of the barbed wire is the least of my troubles. I yank myself up and toss my body over the other side of the fence. I land on my back and it knocks the wind out of me. I sit there for a moment, gasping for air, my eyes wide open. When I get the air back into my chest, I look down at my hands and legs. My hands are cut and my black jeans have been torn at my knee and thigh. And the worst part is that there is still another fence behind me, with more barbed wire. I struggle to get up on my feet but I do. I brush the dirt and gravel off my jeans. From where I am, it looks like I'm on a gravel track around the prison's courtyard. The track is lined with the fences on either side. I stumble when I take my first step, but eventually keep up and start to jog around looking for openings. I almost run past a hole in the fence that has been bound with red string. I fumble with it for a little bit and finally unwind it. I climb through and realize that if the fence was cut open and bound up again, someone has already cut it to get in. They must have planned on staying. I decide to give them a good first impression and bind it back up again. Maybe it's not a first impression; maybe it's a way to not let them know I'm here. Either way, it's a good idea. I drop my duffel and bag and begin to loop the string through the holes in the fence. When I finish binding it up, I tie it with a slip-knot. I turn around, shoulder my bag and pick up my duffel. I start to make my way across the green turf and up to the prison. I notice at least a dozen, two dozen dead walkers on the ground. Someone definitely _has_ been here. I see an old camp site, complete with a fire pit shoe prints. I look around the area and here a shallow and raspy breathing. I almost shout out, "Walkers!" to my group. But I have forgotten that I don't have a group any more. Half of then turned and half of them left me for dead overnight. I almost I almost did die to. It's a good thing that I never have been a heavy sleeper. I stop thinking of the past and search for the walker. I see it farther up, closer to the prison. I run up in that direction. If people were here, they had to have slept with these things crawling around the place. I sprint up to the prison. I start to search for an entrance. I see the walker coming my way from around a corner. It's making its way closer to me. But it's also making its way towards a door. It's a good thing I can run faster than the walker. I make it to the door first and I get lucky. It opens. I pull it closed behind me. I can feel the walker on the other side trying to push it open. I look behind me. I see a hallway that veers off to the left. I take my chances with it and let go off the door. I start to sprint away. I can barely hear the walker shuffling behind me. I keep running as fast as I can, turning down random hallways. I am running down one hallway and right when I'm going to pass another hallway opening to the one I'm running down, someone comes out of it. I slam into them, sending both of us to the ground.

"Shit!" I say to myself.

The other person starts cussing to themselves too. I get up and look down at the other. It's a boy. He's about my age, 13 or 14. He has brown hair and bright blue eyes. There is a cowboy-ish hat that is on the ground next to him. He lies there on the ground, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping his side. I just stand there, panting and staring at him. I don't even bend down to retrieve my bag and duffel. I can hear the walker coming our way though. I turn in the direction in which I came. I bend down to zip open my duffel bag. On top of all my clothes is an axe. The head is red with a silver stripe on either end. The hit is polished wood. I grab it and get it in position to swing. I can see the walker's shadow at the end of the hall, where it turns down into another. The shadow staggers, stops, and sniffs the air. The walker starts to come down the hall, becoming clearer in the dark. He is only about five feet away when I get pulled down by my leg. I let out a yelp as this happens and land on the cold floor. The boy gets up and runs a knife through the walker's head. The walker falls to the ground and the boy pulls the knife out of its head. He turns around to face me. The side of his face is splattered with blood. He is panting and sweaty. I just sit there and don't say anything. I just sort of glare at him.

I'm the first one to start the conversation, "I could've killed it myself."

The boy looks down at me, "No you couldn't."

"Bullshit!" I yell at him. I can't believe this kid. I haven't even told him my name and he's telling me I can't do something by myself. He doesn't even know me.

"What happened to your hands?" he asks simply and bends down and tries to look at my hands.

"I was _fine_ until _you_ ran into me!" I jerk my hands away.

He puts his hands in front of him, as in saying, _Okay, I won't touch you_. "Fine, don't use my help." He stands up but still offers me a hand.

I sigh and push myself up by myself, "Since when did you care so much about strangers?"

He knits his eyebrows, "With the world the way it is now, talking to strangers isn't much of a threat."

I smirk at this and he smiles. He puts out his hand, "I'm Carl Grimes."

I take his hand and look him in the eyes, "Celeste….Michelson."

**K guys that's my first chapter. tell me if you like it. and tell me if you think i should add anything or whatever... BYE!**


	2. Field Trip

**Hey guys thanks for all the helpful comments! ENJOY!**

Carl bends down and picks up his cowboy hat. He brushes it off and sticks it back on. He reaches down again and starts to grab for my open duffel.

"I got it." I interrupt. He shrugs and straightens up again. I retrieve my axe from the ground and lay it down on top of my stuff **(and things JK!)**. I zip the bag up again, shoulder my backpack and pick up the duffel.

"Do you want me to take that?" Carl points to my duffel.

"Uh-" Before I could respond (and moan like an idiot instead) he yanks the bag out of my hands and is already making his way down the hall behind him.

He hesitates and turns around to face me, "Well come on!" I look around, sigh and follow him.

I keep following him for at least half an hour. We don't talk. Once in a while we pass a dead walker on the ground or propped up against a wall. I hurry past the ones that look like they could still be alive. And whenever I do, I realize that it looks like I'm looking to Carl for safety. I keep my distance for the rest of the journey. When we get to a big rusty, red door, Carl pushes it open without hesitation.

We enter a cell block. No one else seems to be here, though. He walks past a couple of cells and dumps my duffel on the floor outside a cell.

"Listen I don't know how long you can stay here…" he begins.

"No! What? No, I wasn't planning on staying _here_.

Carl raises an eyebrow at me.

"No. I mean I didn't know that there were other people _in _here… well, are there any other cell blocks?"

He sighs, "Only ones with walkers in them. You can take them if you're willing to get rid of all the walkers and still risk more coming… alone."

I moan. "Well, you can't be the only one here. Where's the rest of your group?"

"My dad, Michonne, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, and Carol are out in the halls. But everyone else, they're here too," he points behind me.

I turn around and see a teenage girl with curly blonde hair holding a baby, an old man with an amputated leg and crutches. _Quite a family photo _I think to myself. I turn around to Carl and raise my eyebrows. He purses his lips and raises his eyebrows as well. I turn around and take a deep breath before I start to talk.

"Ok, you guys probably don't want me to be here, but I can take the other cell block if one of you guys could just give me a little bit of help with the walkers—"

"Well, that'll be Rick's decision." Says the old man.

"When will he be back?"

"When did you leave with him, Carl?"

I can hear Carl's voice behind me, "I don't know we were looking for more storage rooms to get stuff from and a herd came. We got split up. If they're still being followed, it might be up to half an hour before they get back."

"We should let her stay, Daddy," the girl says in a high pitched voice to the man. The baby stirs in her arms as she gets on tiptoe to tell him this. I look up from the girl to him and take in a quick breath. He looks at me for a little bit, which makes me uncomfortable.

"It's Rick's decision," he repeats.

The girl looks over at me and smiles. I purse my lips and let out an angered breath. I turn around and face Carl, "Where can I stay 'till then?"

He points to the cell in which he dropped my duffel in front of. I walk in and see a metal bunk bed with torn mattresses on a cold, pavement floor.

I turn around to Carl, "It's no Marriot, but it's good for the zombie apocalypse."

He can't help but smirk at this. He leans against the door frame and crosses his arms as I dump my bags on the lower bunk, "So where are you from?"

I look up from the bunk to him, "Hmm?"

"You don't _look_ like you're from Georgia. I mean, you're pretty pale for someone who lives here."

"I don't. I'm from Rhode Island, believe it or not."

He shifts and pushes off the wall, "How'd you get here?"

I sigh, "I was on a class trip," I shove my bags to the other side of the bed and sit down, "It was a science class. The whole fifth grade was going, you know except for the kids that didn't get their forms turned in or were too bad to go. It was my first trip without my parents. I'd been on two day sleep overs and stuff, but this was different, I felt like a real grown kid. We took a plane out to Atlanta. We went to a special science camp and shit. We had only been there a few days when the disease hit. I remember my teacher telling us. She and the camp counselors were telling us to calm down and that they would either get us on a plane back to Wakefield or our parents would come out to get us. But all the planes were stopped.

"And right before the trip I had heard my parents fighting. They got into a really heated argument. And the next day they just sent me off to Atlanta. It was like I wasn't even part of the family anymore. I even wish I had heard them argue over who would take me after they split. When I heard that the disease was killing people but they were still living in dead form, I didn't even cry. The kids around me were balling out their eyes, but I just sat there. I wanted this to happen to my parents. They had been so _bitter_ those last few days I knew them. I didn't care what happened to them,"

Carl leans against the wall now, listening respectfully,

I knit my eyebrows, "I told this to one of my friends that night. When I told her she said I would go to Hell for saying something so cruel. Those actual words came out of her mouth. She said I was _cruel_. She sounded like a grown woman telling me this. And I thought, you know maybe Hell wouldn't be so bad, I wouldn't have to be with all the annoying people. After all I never believed in Heaven or Hell or God. That night we were all evacuated from our cabins. We were put onto buses and given instructions to be as quiet as possible and to remain calm and blah, blah, blah. The buses were just leaving, well a few got onto the road, when the first walker came. We were told to scrunch down in our seats and not make a sound.

"Then, the walker busted into our bus. It started to bite the counselor. We were all screaming and I guess me and a boy, named Hunter, were the only ones smart enough to run towards the emergency exit. The walker looked up and saw the other kids. I jumped on the girl who had called me cruel. As the walker bit her neck, she looked up at me and screamed, 'Go!'. I left the bus with Hunter. We ran for days, dodging walkers. We found houses to stay in and stuff. We even hotwired a car. We were driving near here. And we got out to look around. A walker just came out of nowhere. Before I knew it he was gone. So I got in the car with all my stuff and drove here. I climbed the fence, went through the hole, and got in. Then I ran into you and here I am now."

Carl looks me in the eyes. I can almost feel tears, but I hold them back, "I had to shoot my mom after she gave birth to Judith."

I flick a smile, "That was my friend's name, the one who seemed so old," I look up at Carl and brush a black curl away from my face, "Why did you have to do that?"

"She died during childbirth."

"I'm sorry, Carl."

He shrugs. I hear a loud thump, like the opening of a door, and voices get louder as they come nearer. I look up to Carl and tense my arms. He holds up a finger, signaling me to wait and backs out of the cell. I don't really listen as he talks with the others. I can hear a few women's' voices and about five men's. I guess someone mentioned that I was here because I can hear someone shout, "What!?" and hear footsteps coming near my cell. I stand as the first person appears in the doorway. It's a man, probably Carl's father. He has wavy brown hair and a short, scruffy beard. His clothes are splattered with blood. Next comes a younger man with spikey brown hair. He wears a sleeveless shirt with a vest over it. He also holds a crossbow. Then there is a woman with short gray hair and a tank top on. The rest are a woman with dark skin and dread locks, a young, Asian guy, and a young girl with short brown hair.

"The hell is this?" says the guy with the crossbow.


	3. Camp

**Hey peeps. So obviously I've been trying to spread up the paragraphs and….. Yeah! Oh, and I am bored of the retard title for my story. So leave me a comment of what you think I should change it to. Once I make a decision, I AM GOING TO CHANGE IT! I will change it after I write the fourth chapter so you guys know what it is called now. So anyways, ENJOY!**

My eyes flutter down to the table as Rick death stares me across the table. We sit there in silence for a minute or two. Then, he finally breaks the silence, "What's your name?"

I sit there in silence, not looking up from the floor. But, I can see Carl lean down and whisper in his dad's ear, "So Celeste is the story you told true?"

I look up at Carl, swallow, and take in a breath. I turn to Rick, "No." The words come out of my mouth without my consent. I then, look back down, shamefully.

Rick raises his eyebrows, and leans his folded arms on the table, signaling for me to go on.

"Not all of it," I glance up to Carl and back down to Rick, "There was more."

He leans in even more on the table, "Well why don't you tell us about that."

I look around at all the faces turned in my direction and all the eyes glued to the back of my head. I rack my brain for all the names and faces. How they died and how they lived. I trace my fingers over the scar on the palm of my left hand, "There were more,"

"More?"

I nod, "Hunter," I close my eyes, trying to remember them all, "Ryan. . . Um. . . Bryce and Misty, the twins . . . Matt . . . and Cecelia."

"What happened to them?"

I glare across the table, cross my arms and look way, "Hunter, Ryan, Matt, and Cecelia were bit. Bryce and Misty left me over night."

Rick waits patiently from across the table. This way he reminds me of a cop. The way he stares. It is fierce and makes you uncomfortable.

"Well, Hunter died last. Bryce and Misty left both of us. And then Hunter got bit and died."

Rick nods slowly and we sit in silence. I realize that no one had moved or made any sound. It is almost as if the world around me pauses for a moment, then the little person in my head hits play and everyone moves at once. Everyone but me shifts a little bit and exchanges looks.

"I already know you don't want me here. You want me to think it's because you don't want to lose anyone else in the group, but I've gotten to know at least _two _of you who won't completely forget me and will wonder about me once I leave. And if I _do_ die out there, it's not gonna be any different from me dying here."

"We'll have another mouth to feed, we can't risk losing—" says the woman with the short gray hair.

"I can take care of myself. Look at me!" I put my hands on my chest and stand up, "I've been parentless for _three_ years. _I _was the leader of my group. _I_ had to take care of everyone else. _I_ had to feed their mouths. _I _had to watch out for _them_!" My voice is almost at a yell now.

I stand there, breathing hard. I look up from Rick to Carl. His eyes get wide and he averts them quickly.

I look down at Rick, but even _he_ isn't looking me in the eye. He pretends to be interested in the table. I glare down and shake my head, "Ridiculous," I mutter to myself.

I storm back to my cell and slam the door open. I reach down to grab my backpack but realize it's been opened. I take a quick look inside it and fling the top flap down. I let out an angered breath and storm back out of the cell.

"Where are they?!" I say as I make my way to the others.

The ones looking down look up at me with questioning looks.

"What?" asks Carl.

"You heard me you little ass hole!" I am yelling in an angered voice now. I walk right up to Carl, place my hands on his chest, and shove him over. He lies on the floor, his eyes wide and startled. Everyone in the room starts to come my way. A few people start to calm me down, yelling, 'Hey, hey, hey!'.

I pin Carl down with my knees and take my left hand and hold down his forehead, "Where are they?! I know you took them!"

"I don't even know what you're talking about!" he protests.

The guy with the crossbow is trying to yank me off him and with success, throws me off, "Hey, hey, Zelda! He didn't take anything!"

I push myself up off the ground, "Then _you_ took them?!" I take a threatening step forward.

Before anyone can talk, I just glare and shake my head, "I'm leaving. There is _no way_ that I am staying with you!" I run back to the cell and close up my backpack and heave it onto my back. I take the long strap on my duffel and put it over my head and onto my right shoulder. I march back out and make my way to the door. Carl says my name, but everyone else stays silent. I pull open the door and emerge into the dark halls with blood stained walls. I push the door shut behind me and slowly take cautious steps forward.

My boots echo with every step I take. I decide to pick up the pace if I am planning to leave. I peek around corners before I turn down them just as a precaution. There haven't been any surprises yet, fortunately.

I keep walking for about ten more minutes, forgetting from where I came and where I was when I came to the prison. I am about to take a random right turn when I can hear the heavy and raspy breathing of a walker. I start to back up and go back the way I came. I am about to make another turn but I can hear more moans and shallow breathing. I start to run back again and make the right turn.

I take my backpack off and swing it at the walker's head. The neck brakes but the walker is only slowed down by seconds, compared to me. I sprint past it as fast as my feet take me. I look behind me and can see four stumbling walkers limping their way towards me. I sprint down the depressive-gray hallway and trip over a dead walker's leg, which is propped up against a wall. I turn myself over on the ground and am propping myself up with my hands.

A walker falls down on me. I start to scream bloody murder. I am holding it off of my just by my hands. Its rotting lips stretch into a wicked grin and its blood-caked, brown teeth bite the air, trying to make their way to my neck. I can barely hold it back now. My muscles start to quiver as the walker's hands grope at my stomach. I am starting to freak out now. I can feel the walker's claws trying to rip through my shirt. _This is it_, I think; _I am going to die before I even get _married.

Just as the walker rips through the stomach of my shirt, it is yanked off me. It is being held up by the neck, where an arm is choking it. Another hand comes from behind the walker, holding a hunting knife. It is buried its forehead and the walker drops to the ground, revealing the killer.

It's Carl, "Why am I not surprised?" I mutter.

The rest of the walkers are lying down, dead behind him. He is standing like he is posing with a sign below him reading: 13 year-old zombie killer; and I just did! Only I don't buy it.

"Will you stop following me for one minute?!" I hoist myself up and brush off my pants.

"C'mon! You were almost killed a minute ago! You wouldn't have made it if I hadn't pulled that walker off of you!"

"So suddenly now, you're worried about me?"

"What?! No! No, I came to give you these," he unclips a thick belt around his waist. He holds it out to me. It is _my _belt with _my_ knives in it. I reach out my hand to take it. I grasp the black vinyl and take it from Carl's hands, "Thanks," I say dryly, "but why did you want to give me these so bad?"

"So you can survive. Plus, I did take them…"

I sigh, "So now you care about me surviving. . ."

He gets angered, "Why are you concerned about that?!"

I look down at the knife belt and fumble with the buckle, "Because I don't know you well enough to be thinking about you," I say in a soft voice and look up at him, "I'm leaving and you shouldn't be the one to stop me," I turn around and retrieve my bags.

I turn back around to Carl and give him a slight smile. He smiles back, "Good luck then. But I think we'd both be happier if you stayed and joined the group."

"But it'd be better if I didn't,"

He hands over the knife that he killed the last walker with, "You can have this to remember us by,"

I take the knife by the brown, leather hilt. I angle the blade so I can see my refection. There is a pale face with an upturned nose and arched eyebrows. The figure also has rare violet eyes. Her black bangs swoop to the right side of her forehead and her curly hair is pulled back into a ponytail. I don't like this girl. She is rude and will not let anyone in. She _is_ what that little, perfect, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, girl told her in fifth grade. She is crude.

I lower the knife and can feel cold water trickling down my cheeks. I look up at Carl and he has a look of sympathy on his face. I bite my lip, trying not to cry. The tears stream down my face as fast as gravity can take them. I wipe my eye and sniff. Carl puts out his arms and I fall into them. He holds me and pats my back as I cry.

"I'm sorry," I weep into his shoulder, "I'm sorry."

I stop crying after a minute or two, but I stay in my friend's arms. I can feel his strong heartbeat in his chest. I close my eyes and lean against him.

Suddenly, my eyes snap open, _what the fuck_, I think to myself and pull myself out of Carl's arms as quickly as I can.

I hope my face isn't as red as it feels as I look up to his face.

"Let's go back to the cell block," he tells me.

I close my eyes with a tired expression, "Carl!"

He knows what I'm thinking and corrects me by pointing to the hallway veering off next to us and then points to his ear.

I listen. There is the noise of the slight shuffling of feet against the concrete floor. I look back to Carl. He already has his gun ready. I wrap the knife belt around my waist and buckle it. I pull a long, wicked-bladed, knife and hold it by the blade, ready to throw. The first walker shuffles into the open space between the hall we are in and the hall it was walking down. I aim and throw my knife. It spins and plants itself into the walker's left ear. It drops, limp to the ground.

We start to turn around, but Carl stops. He is motionless. He turns to me and raises a hand as signal to wait. He looks straight ahead and suddenly turns around, "More!"

"What?"

"Walkers!"

I turn to the open passageway and listen. I can hear the sound of a fairly large herd of walkers.

I turn my head to Carl, "Run?"

He nods starts to sprint in the direction with the walkers he killed earlier. I don't hesitate and follow him. The walkers must have heard or smelt us, because I can hear them groaning angrily and the soggy pads of their bloody feet hitting the ground as they limp after us. We run as fast as our legs with take us, turning around once in a while to shoot or knife a walker.

I toss a knife at the closest walker behind me. I turn around and slam into the back of Carl. I turn around and so does he, "Dead end," he says.

I pull three knives and get the first one ready to throw. I look over to Carl and he has his gun aimed and loaded. He looks back at me.

"So much for just becoming good friends," I give a sad smile. He returns that smile and then puts on a hard face as he turns to the hoard of dozens of walkers running to get their fill on raw human.

**Hey thanks for reading! Sorry it's sooooooooo long! Make sure you leave me a comment about the new title too!**


	4. Herd

**Ok guys I decided on the title. It's gonna be 'Deadline' (I know, I know. I picked it up off the internet…. And stole it from another book or something…. I hope I won't get in trouble for that). Well anyways here's chapter four! I'll be changing the next time I get on the site (expect that to be in a few days). Chapter five should be out in about four days to a week. Thank you SO, SO, SO MUCH for the comments! To tell you the truth, I've never really thought about being a writer….but know that I've seen the comments, I feel that now that might be on my mind until I get a job. Thanks again! ENJOY!**

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit!" I whimper as the hoard of walkers draws near.

I look to my left, at Carl. He takes a breath and aims his gun. His brown hair is ratty and his, once white, shirt is stained with brown. The _Science Dog_ logo is beginning to wear off. He shoots the closest walker to him. Its head snaps back and it drops to the ground. He takes down more and more.

I fling a few knives. Most of them hit the walkers straight between the eyes. But a few stray and miss by a long shot, or lodge themselves in the necks or mouth. The walkers are coming at us faster now. They are close enough for me to run at them so I reach down for my axe. It's not there. _Oh shit!_ I think. It's with my duffel, in a lost and forgotten hall. All I have now are the knives and I've wasted enough already. I'd better switch to stabbing and not throwing.

I run at the closest walker and run the blade of the knife Carl gave me through its head. I wrench it out. Warm blood sprays onto my face. I don't bother to wipe it off and go for the next walker. I start to take them down easily. They ones closest to us must not be craving us. They are slow and stupid and don't try very hard. But, the ones behind them want us for their next meal. They push the ones in front of them into us, forcing us into the corner of the walls.

I bring my knife down on the next walker. But what I didn't notice is that the walker already had a sword poking out of its stomach. I look down and see the sword coming out of the walker's stomach and into mine. At first I don't feel anything. I am too shocked to realize the pain I'm in. I put my hand behind the walker and slowly pull out the sword out from the back of the walker. As it exits my gut, my bright red blood mixes with the black blood of the walker. My vision starts to blur and I start to get a headache. I pull the sword all the way out of the back of the walker's stomach. I feel a sudden burst of excruciating pain. I don't do anything about it though. My knife is still lodged in the walker's head as it drops to the ground with me. I lie on the cold, pavement floor, looking up to the blood-stained ceiling. My vision is blurring quickly.

The next thing I see is an explosion in the middle of the herd of walkers. The flames engulf them, spreading among them, sending them into flames. I see Carl's face looking down on me. My ears are ringing and I can't blink or move at all. He says my name, but I can't hear him. My eyelids finally give out and drop.

My eyes flutter open. I still can't see clearly, though. I am flung over Carl's right shoulder, my arms hanging down by his legs. It isn't long before I pass out again.

I wake up a second time. We are making our way to Cell block C now. I can tell this because we pass through a familiar hallway. This time, Carl is carrying me bridal-style. For the second time, I black out again. When I passed out in Carl's arms, I dream.

I am in my old house. I am standing in my living room. It still has its same ugly, pea-green walls that my mom always meant to repaint. There is the shelf with all of my dad's thousands of movies sitting next to the leather recliner, put at an angle, towards the TV. Next to it is the clean, white couch, or at least, it used to be clean. Now it is dingy and torn. Stuffing is coming out of the back and the corners are worn down. But the thing that is most surprising is that it is sprayed with blood. In fact, everything is. The walls, the chairs, the couch, the TV. Everything. There is one spot on the couch where there is blood smeared. It is smeared in a strange pattern. I crane my neck as I look at it. I look closer, it's a message. _Run_. I look up to the black TV screen. I can see a slight movement in the reflection. Then I see it moving closer to me. The figure walks calmly and is very much alive. I turn around and see her. My mom. She wears a clean white shirt and jeans. Her brown hair is let down and straight.

I keep my distance from her as she stands in front of me, "Celeste—" she reaches out a hand to touch my cheek.

I pull away from her, "What do you want?" I ask in a dry tone.

She looks sympathetic and puts her hand down by her side, "I'm so sorry,"

I glare at her, "No you're not! If you really were, you wouldn't have let me go through this!" I roll up the sleeve of my jacket to show her the scars on my forearm.

She looks down at the floor. "I was wrong Celeste… to marry him and let him do that to you."

"No you weren't!" I yell at her, "If you really were, you wouldn't have let him do that!"

"Celeste, it was horrible, what he did to you—"

I glare at her again, "You don't really think that. Come on! You were on _his_ side! You came home drunk every night and got in fights and he took out his anger on _me_ and you just… watched! You never really cared about me! You only cared about that guy you were cheating on!"

She looks at me with a less sympathetic face now, almost annoyance or anger. Her face soon melts back into a sweet, fake, smile, "I have made my mistakes in life, and so have you, sweetheart."

I turn around and look back at the blank TV screen. I can see my reflection. I turn back around to her, "Something's wrong with the TV."

Her eyes widen and fill with fear but she doesn't say anything. I turn back around and slowly walk towards the television.

"Celeste, dear. Please stop," I hear my mother warn me. I ignore her and keep walking.

"Celeste, stop!" she yells. I reach the TV and bend down slightly. I can only see my reflection. I turn around and see what place my mom is in. I turn back to the screen and look in the black area behind the couch. Nothing.

I turn my head to look in the mirror in the end of the hallway. I stand and walk farther away from her. She takes a few steps closer to me, "Celeste, please listen to me! I need to take you to this camp. Daddy's there and so is Hunter and Misty and Matt—"

"No. They're all dead!"

She should be almost in the mirror's line of vision. _Just a few more steps_, I think.

She takes a soft, warning step. She is in front of the couch now. I look in the mirror. She isn't there.

I turn back to her, "Sorry Mom," I whisper and body-slam her. She falls to the ground beneath me. I close my eyes tightly, for I know what is going to happen next. I open my eyes again. There she is beneath me, her eyes glazed over and the white gone red. She makes choking noises and twists her head around, lazily. I start to cry uncontrollably.

**Sorry it's so short! I just felt like I was leaving you guys hanging! Well… I already have the next chapter started so…. Yeah!**


	5. Gone

**Hey guys! I noticed that on the character template, I forgot age. Leave that too! I also decided that I will pick more than one character… but only a few! Also, I really need someone to make me a cover photo if possible! That would be awesome! So, leave comment!**

My eyes snap open and I take in a shaky breath. I am lying in a bed. There are white sheets underneath me and the bottom of a metal bunk above me. My eyes wonder around the room. I'm in one of the cells in Cell Block C. I start to push myself up but a warm hand rests on my forehead and gently pushes my forehead down back onto the pillow. The hand retreats and I turn my head to the right. The quick movement makes me go blurry and my head hurt. But, soon enough the face comes into view. It is the dark skinned woman with the dreadlocks and headband.

"You need to rest for a little bit before you get up,"

When I speak, my voice is husky and croaks, "How long…"

"You've been out for three weeks," She reaches down to get something out of her bag.

Three weeks. I have been sleeping here for three weeks. I turn my head and look back up at the bottom of the top bunk. Someone had written _YOLO_. _Not any more,_ I think. I can see out of the corner of my eye, the woman pull out a water bottle. She nudges her hand under my head to prop it up. She unscrews the cap of the water and holds it up to my mouth. It is lukewarm but it soothes my dry throat. I realize how parched my tongue was too. I let the girl pull it away from my mouth. I close my eyes and drop my head back on my pillow.

"I'm Michonne, by the way."

I open my eyes again and turn my head to look at her, "Thanks… Michonne."

She gives me a wary smile, "You really should be thanking Daryl and Hershel."

I nod my head even though I have no idea who the heck these guys are.

Michonne turns to look out the cell door. She raises her eyebrows and stands, "I'll let Carl explain," she seems to know what I'm thinking. I sit up and squint my eyes, I see Carl standing outside the cell. Michonne picks up her bag and walks out. Carl makes room for her to pass then walks in.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I brush my bangs away from my face. I realize how tangled my hair is though. I pull it out of my ponytail and comb the long, black, mess into perfect curls with my fingers. I then knot it up over my shoulder. Carl sits leans against a post of the bunk as I do this, watching intently.

I finally drop my hand into my lap, "What?" I ask, annoyed, looking over to him.

He shifts his weight and clears his throat, "So… you wanna know what happened?"

"Please," I scoff, "take your time."

He scoffs back but sits down next to me. He takes off his hat off and fiddles with the strings in his hands, "After you pulled the sword out, there was an explosion—"

"I saw that," I interrupt.

He takes a breath and nods, like he's a little bit annoyed with me, "Well, yeah. It burnt all of them. I had to carry you out and I caught up to Daryl—he's the one who threw the grenade that caused the fire. He led us out and retrieved your bag," he points to the wall across from the bed. I see my duffel set neatly next to my backpack.

"Well, I had to carry you back to the cell block. Hershel said you were lucky. He had to do surgery to clean out the walker's blood. He got most of it and you didn't get the fever, so…" he smiles and shrugs. I look into his eyes. They are brilliant blue. I can feel him staring back into my deep purple eyes and look away. I feel embarrassed for a minute. What was I _doing_? I break the ice by saying, "Well, go on!"

He blinks like he's come out of a trance, "Oh! Um, yeah. Hershel stitched you up and you were out for three weeks."

"Doesn't sound too bad," I say.

"You should take a look at your stomach," Carl remarks.

I look up and knit my eyebrows, then down to my stomach. I lift up my shirt just enough to see my scar. I barely have a stomach anymore and it just reminds me of how hungry I am. But that's not what makes me nauseated. I look down to see a nasty, red, scar. It has been sewn up, but it is still red. I feel my head lighten and my vision blur. I pull my shirt down quickly.

I swallow a lump that has formed in my throat and turn to Carl. His eyes widen and he averts them quickly, "What?!" I yell.

"Nothing!" he yells back.

"Why are you yelling?!"

"You're the one who's yelling!" he stands up.

"Just CALM DOWN!"

Carl looks at me and rolls his eyes, "Sure, _I _need to calm down…" he mumbles.

"Listen, when you want to be serious again, I'm still here,"

I stand, grab both of my bags, and walk out of the cell and he follows me. I stumble a few times when my head gets light but I manage to make it just outside the commons area when I turn to Carl.

I bite my lip and knit my eyebrows. I can't even look at him when I say, "Carl… I'm still leaving."

I keep my head down looking at the tips of my lace-up combat boots. We stand there in an uncomfortable silence. Carl breaks the silence.

"Well, we have to go on a run today. Wanna come?"

I look up and open my mouth. I can't find the words. What was he talking about? Was this going to give me a chance to run away? I put my head up and put my palm against my forehead and close my eyes.

"Fine," I say simply.

I open my eyes and look up to Carl. He gives me a wary smile and I return it. He leads me into the commons area where the rest of the group is waiting. Some are conversing, others stand alone. I realize that I've only meet Rick, Carl, and Michonne out of the whole group. Well, if I'm going to run away, why should I meet the rest?

As we enter, a few people look up. The guy with the crossbow, who must have been Daryl (only listening logic) walked over to us, "You ready to head out?" I look at him and realize that he was the one who had to pull me off of Carl when I freaked out. I suddenly feel embarrassed when he looks over to me. He is sort of scary looking. He has a pinched up face and mousy brown hair. He wears a sleeveless shirt plus a denim vest over that. He holds a crossbow complete with arrows.

He suddenly looks over at me and I blink and look around before looking back at him, "You're welcome," he says.

I shrug and give him a tired blink. He gives me a judgmental look. I guess I've got some competition.

Rick and Michonne are over by the door waiting for us.

"We'd better get going," I say, still looking at Daryl and then walking towards the door. I make my way up the stairs leading to them as Carl and Daryl follow me.

We don't come across any walkers. I guess it's just luck. We make it to the car and everything goes smoothly. Daryl rides a motorcycle in front of us. Rick drives, Michonne sits shotgun. Carl sits on the right side in the back, which leaves me on the left.

The whole ride, I curl up against the door and look out the window, which is about an hour long. Everyone sits in silence. I can see in the reflection of the window, Carl is fiddling with strings of his hat while it lays in his lap.

Once in a while, we pass a few walkers. The whole way, a song plays over and over in my head as I think of a plan to escape.

_Quiet little voices creep into my head. I'm young again. I'm young again, I'm young again. I'm young again. Quiet little monsters creep into my bedroom wall. I'll fall for you._ _I'll fall for you._ _I'll fall for you._

The song plays over and over in my head. And for some reason it reminds me of one thing that I can't get off of my mind.

"Did the baby survive?" I say suddenly.

The car screeches to a stop. We all lurch forward and get slammed back into our seats. I can hear the motorcycle in front of us stop too. Rick turns around and looks at me. My eyes are wide with fear, I guess. His are wild as he looks at me like he's going to kill me. In shotgun, Michonne glances back to me but then fiddles with her katana holster.

Rick rubs his eyes with the side of his hand and looks down, "Yes,"

"Okay," I turn back to the window. But, the car doesn't start up again. I bite my lip and look down, then turn back to Rick, "I'm sorry… about your wife,"

He lets out a sigh and turns back around, griping the wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white.

"I've never been good at stuff like this,"

"It's fine," he says casually and starts the car back up again. Before too long, we are pulling into the parking lot of an abandoned mall.

There are only a few walkers around but they are too far away to be any danger. Lucky to us, the doors to a Sports Authority are unlocked. As we enter them, they open to the sides in jerky, squeaky movements. We each step in one after another. I look around the corner, checking the place out. There's a walker that emerges out from behind the checkout counter wearing a Sports Authority work shirt. Daryl raises his crossbow and nails it in the forehead.

Everyone sort of goes their separate ways. I slowly walk around the back of the counter. The walker lays face down. I yank the arrow out of its head, which makes a _shthuck_ sound. I flick the blood off it and turn the walker over. He—or, _it_ has a nametag that says: _Jesus_. I smirk at this and turn him back over and walk back around the counter, clasping the arrow.

I walk slowly around the shelves full of decaying soccer balls and lacrosse sticks. I run my hand along a shelf browsing the rows of sports equipment.

I stop by a pair of fingerless workout gloves hanging by a little hook. I feel it and snatch it off its hanger. The heels of my shoes give out a slight _tap tap_ as they hit the cold floor.

New song time! Yeah, I kind of have this thing. Whenever I'm not talking a song pops into my head. Sadly, I can't really control it. Sure enough, a really depressing song starts playing. Ellie Goulding, Explosions. This is pretty much the most depressing song to me. I whisper the words as it plays in my head. _Needing somebody and you've learned, it's okay to be afraid, but it will never be the same, it will never be the same._

Yep. I can't get the fucking depressing song out of my head. It reminds me of too much. I sing/whisper it as I walk around the corner of an aisle. I see Carl looking at some random sports shit. I've never been a sporty person. He turns and looks at me. I glance at him still mouthing the words and keep walking forward.

I just start to hum now as I walk to the exit of the store. There are bars separating it from the mall. I link my fingers in the little metal squares and scan the building. The lights are out in the halls. There are abandoned shopping bags strewn across the floor. A Proactive™ kiosk is topped over on its side. A picture of Justin Bieber with a quote from him saying something about how he used Proactive and shit and blah, blah, blah.

But there's something I haven't noticed this whole time, there aren't any walkers. I jog back to the checkout counter. I bend down next to the dead body and start searching its pockets. I pull out a wallet from its pant pockets but toss it aside. I roll it over and find a keychain dangling from a belt loop. And there it is. The key.

I unloop it from the chain and run back to the gait. My hands shake as I push the key into the padlock. _Click_. I slide the gaits to the sides. I feel someone else's presence and turn around. There is Carl.

"What?" I say smiling.

He purses his lips and looks around him, "What the _hell_ are you doing?" he hisses.

I moan and roll my eyes, "Grow some balls Carl."

He sighs and walks after me as I exit the store. I hitch my bags up on my shoulders, "Why are you following me?" I say without turning around.

He jogs up next to me, "What do you mean? I can't let you go _here_. There could be thousands of walkers!"

"Do you use your head just for haircuts?"

"What?"

"Carl, if you haven't noticed, I can take care of myself, I don't need a babysitter."

He puts a hand on my shoulder and stops me. I turn to him. I notice that he grew at least an inch since we were in the tombs. When I first met him, we were about the same height. Now he is about 5'7". That's two inches taller than I am.

He looks me straight in the eyes, "Celeste—"

"Carl! Celeste!"

We both turn our heads to see the trio of elders running up to us. While they're still out of hearing distance, I turn to Carl and hiss, "I _told_ you, you shouldn't have followed me! I could have been out of sight and out of mind by now!"

Carl opens his mouth to say something but Rick cuts him off.

"What are you doing?! You have to tell us when you leave!"

"Dad! I'm not a little kid anymore! Will you just get off my back!?" Carl yells and storms back into the Sports Authority.

Rick turns to me. I open my mouth and close it, widening my eyes, pretending like I haven't got a fucking clue what that was all about.

Rick and Michonne turn around and start back to the store. But Daryl stays back with me. I cross my arms as the others leave.

Daryl turns to me, but I just sigh, turn, and start walking away. I can hear his footsteps behind me, but I keep walking. I ditch into an Ulta™ and don't even bother to turn around. What guy would go into an Ulta store? I sit on a stool on the brow bar and drop my bags, looking out the window. Sure enough, there he is, looking back at me.

I hop off and make my way around the store. I go down the hair aisle. I stop when I see a bottle of red hair dye. I always wanted to dye my hair a different color. I take it in my hands and read it. _Permanent_. Perfect. I weigh it in my hands and sort of snatch it back from myself.

I browse the aisle more and come across a pair of scissors. I grab those too and walk back to my bags. I shove the stuff in my back pack and walk out of the store. I look around, no Daryl. I little _hallelujah_ goes off in my head. I shoulder my backpack and put the strap of my duffel around my head. I look down the hallway to the Sports Authority. I don't see any movement coming from there. Carl must have convinced them to leave.

Oh great. Now I feel shitty. They actually _left _me. Without anything. I mean, the last thing Carl did when we were together was yell at his dad. Well, the past is the past. What _I_ need to be doing is thinking of what to do now. I just stand there. Thinking.

I don't even make a decision yet when a hand comes out from behind me and covers my mouth. Whoever it is, holds me back. I muffle a scream and grope at the hand over my face. I can hear the person shushing me.

"Shh. It's okay. Calm down!" They emphasize the down. They really want me to be quiet. All I can tell is that it's a girl by the voice. I rip her hands off my mouth and turn around, holding a knife up to her neck.


	6. AUTHOR'S NOTE!

**Hey guys sorry it has been soooooooo long since i updated. just wanted to say that I'll be updating really soon! **

**Oh! And if you want a character to be in the story, give me a comment:**

**Name:**

**Gender:**

**Skin Tone:**

**Eye Color:**

**Hair Color/Length:**

**Facial Details (if any):**

**Clothing:**

**Age:**

**Height:**

**Back Story:**

**Life Span (Do they live throughout my whole story or do they die?):**

**Any other details:**

**Only one character will be picked and put in chapter 6 or 7!**


	7. The Governor

**Ok! Well, now I'm gonna reenact the Flash and write this whole freaking awesome chapter with the new character! Wanna see me do it again? HAHAHAHAHHA I'm hilarious. Well, anyways! Thanks go out to Kailey426! But don't worry! I am going to accept two more characters! Oh, and, I want to thank Lily for your really nice comment. I haven't really considered being a writer before. But thanks! And I don't know why I haven't gotten more reviews too! HAHA. JK! Well, thanks again! Comment soon!**

The girl backs up against a wall. I see her hands itch at her side where she has a gun. Strands of her brown hair are strewn in front of her freckled face. Obscured in the light, her frightened brown eyes widen.

Her head snaps to the side as there is an explosion and the gait of one store goes flying across the mall. I rattles to the ground and there is a moment of silence before we hear the _click clack_ of boots on tile.

I am still looking to the space where the door flew when the girl tackles me. We are in one of those hallways leading into a bathroom now. She is on top of me, pinning my shoulders down with her knees, one hand covering my mouth the other on her gun. But she doesn't look at me. She looks back behind her down the hallway.

She turns her head back and looks down at me. She closes her eyes and holds her breath as the boots stop. The heels screech against the floor as they turn in our direction. The speed of the footsteps is faster now.

The girl gets off me and pulls me up by the hand. She keeps hold of it as she leads me into the boys' bathroom. Oh god. The boys' bathroom. I have never been in one and I'm still planning not to. But that end when she opens the door and brings me in. She opens a random stall and shoves me in. How could my day get any worse? At least there isn't a walker in here, if you know what I mean. I close the door and bend down looking down the bottom of the stalls.

I can see the girl's neon green converse tucked up onto the seat she is on. I hear the bathroom door open and do the same. Whoever is the owner to the boots is silent, witch really creeps me out. Why doesn't he just start yelling and fire his gun or something? That would be less freaky.

The boots walk along the stalls. As they come up to my stall, I lock it. There is another blood-freezing silence. Then, all in one movement, one boot comes up and starts kicking the door. I wince every time it comes down and rattles the stall.

This door is going to come off. That guy is strong. But I'm too smart for him. I slide off the toilet seat and get on my stomach. I scoot over into the two stalls he has already passed.

Just as I slide back onto the seat, the door of the stall I was previously in breaks in. the man lets out a gruff sigh and walks back out the door.

The girl jumps down from the toilet seat and opens her stall door. I do the same.

We look at each other from outside our stalls. She is wearing a simple tee shirt and jeans. Her neon converse obscure the subtle clothing. I look up to her face. She looks at mine. She is really pretty. Simple, straight, brown hair, big doe eyes, and freckles dotting her nose. Sure there are those other pretty girls that turn out that way by caking junk on their faces, but this girl is natural pretty. And I—I'm jealous.

I have one of those dramatic faces. I can't help it. I was born looking like I had plastic surgery. While I have high arched eyebrows that give me a sly look, she has ones that make her look kind. I look like an elf with my upturned nose. Hers is buttoned. She has a somewhat homely look about her but, like I said, she is pretty.

She seems to be around the same age as me. Thirteen. I have kept a calendar in my bag and have been counting down. But I need to cross off three weeks. So, that means my birthday will be in about a month. The girl is either a late bloomer or a year younger.

She looks me straight in the eyes and puts a finger to her mouth. She slowly walks past me and puts her ear to the door.

She puts a hand out and waves for me to come. I stand next to her listening. Her eyes are closed.

They snap open, "Okay," it is weird now, seeing her talk when I am looking at her.

She opens the door and peeks out.

I don't even know why I am listening to this girl. I have no idea who! Why do I trust her? I have no fucking idea.

She walks out and I follow her. I see my bags on the ground outside the Ulta.

"Oh shit," I say as I jog up to them. The duffel was opened, but nothing is missing. Thank god! And my backpack wasn't even opened. I shoulder both of my bags and look over to the girl. She is already walking away.

She stops and turns back to me, "Well come on!"

Listen, I have no idea why she wants me to follow her or anything. I know what you're thinking, "Celeste, you retarded! Stranger danger! Don't follow her!"

But it's the zombie apocalypse. And this girl is the same age as me. Plus, she saved me from that guy.

I take my chances and run after her.

She somewhat smiles when I catch up to her. She leads me in and out of the Sports Authority and into the parking lot. I look around. The green car that we came here in is gone. But there is another car. A nice one, actually. It's an old, black, GTO.

"You drive?" the girl asks me.

"Yeah,"

"Good. I'll give directions,"

She opens the door and hops in shotgun. I stand by my door, not knowing what to do.

She looks at me expectantly, "Well, get in,"

I scoot into the driver's seat and look over to the girl, "Keys?"

She reaches into her pocket and tosses them to me. I put them in and start the car up with a roar. I drive out of the parking lot, onto the road.

"What now?" I ask.

"Keep going straight. I'll tell you when to stop,"

I do as she says. We go for a while. Nothing exciting happens, except for me accidentally hitting a squirrel and getting out to retrieve it.

"Stop," the girl says suddenly. I pull over to the side of the highway and get out of the car. So does the girl. She leads me into the forest right next to the road.

"You can climb trees right?"

"What?"

She stops in front of a pretty big one and points up.

In it there is a sleeping bag in one of the nooks. There are bags hanging from branches. And in a hollow, food and water is stored.

"Wow…" is all I can say.

She gives me a confident smile and starts to climb. I start once she gets to her spot.

"You the only one here?" I ask.

"Not unless you wanna join,"

I almost fall out of the tree. No one has _offered_ for me to join their group, "Oh, uh. Sure… I guess."

She smiles down at me.

That night we eat raw squirrel.

I realize how hungry I am. I haven't eaten since a few days before I came upon the prison. I had dead cow mean and threw it all up the next morning. So, that's two days, plus one day, plus three weeks, plus another day.

And all I get now is half a squirrel.

I scoop out the brain and pop it in my mouth, "What's your name?" I say, my mouth full.

The girl looks up, "Kailey. What's yours?"

"Celeste,"

She smiles widely and I smile back. If you haven't noticed, I'm not much of a smiler. Her teeth are stained with blood, but her smile is sweet.

"Who was that guy. That we were running away from?"

She looks up, her eyebrows knit. Her face serious as a shadow passes over it.

"The Governor,"

I raise an eyebrow. Kailey must get the idea, "He is the leader of this place, Woodbury. He's a lunatic. He killed all the older people that went with him to kill the people at the prison…"

"He attacked the prison?!" I yell.

She backs up and her eyes widen, "Yeah. Why?"

"I was just there. These people, they kinda took care of me for a while. They just let me leave back at the mall."

"Well. Um… okay. So, anyways. He was keeping all these people there. And he won't let any of them leave. He was even keeping his zombified daughter in a cage. Until, well you probably know her, Michonne, she killed her. He was trying to kill Michonne and she drove a piece of glass through his _eye_. So now he wears an eye patch. He killed his girlfriend too! She was part of the prison group, she was with them before that too. But, well, she was split up from them when they were leaving a barn that some of the people lived at. So she met Michonne and everything got all crazy. And he basically want to kill everyone in his path and murder the population of the prison…"

I can't concentrate on what she is saying. All I can think about is that this 'Governor' guy wants to kill everyone I know.

I realize that I am supposed to be worrying about the people at the prison… Nah! I don't need to worry about them. I need to be worrying about Kailey and I.

"Celeste?" Kailey looks at me worriedly.

"Yeah?" I look back at her.

She just knits her eyebrows and tosses the squirrel skin behind her back. She slips into her sleeping bag and I curl up in my jacket in another nook. Kailey must have been here for a while. The two nooks are smoothed out to cradle me in.

Oh great! Another fun song to cry myself to sleep with. Yay!

_I've figured out that joy is not in your arms_

_I know I'll always ache with an empty heart_

_I think it's time to run 'cause I'm seeing stars_

_I'm seeing stars watch me fall apart_

**OK! Really short chapter but, what the hey!? If you are wondering what song that is at the end, it is "JOY" by Ellie Goulding. Love it! And I think you will too! Well leave a comment. Remember, i still might be picking another character!**


	8. Damaged

**Ok guys! I'm gonna start the next chapter! Going fast! Schools out, so, I have tons of time to write! YAY! So, leave me a comment! Thanks to Lily, again and to Ame for my second OC! PM me because I am soooo freaking bored all the time!**

God damned sun. Waking me up every damn morning. It must be pretty early. I look at my watch. 5:24 am. Fun story about how I find useful little trinkets like my watch. I found it in an abandoned watch store after the outbreak. There was a walker in there, though. So, I reached my hand in and grabbed one off of a little spinney hanger. But when I looked at it, it was a Barbie watch. I couldn't go back in. This was before I didn't vomit every time I killed a walker. So, I had to deal with it. I always hide it under the sleeve of my jacket though.

I pull my sleeve back over my wrist, roughly. I close my eyes shut and stretch my back. Slumping down, I blink sleepily. On the other side of the tree, Kailey is still sleeping. I grab my duffel off of a branch hanger. I lay it down in my lap and unzip it. Still on top is my axe. I pull it out and zip the bag up again. Then, put it back on its branch. I tuck the axe into my knife belt.

Climbing down the tree is easy. Although, when I reach the bottom, my hands are covered with sap and dirt. I wipe my hands on my pants and pull out a knife. On the tree I carve: _Gone out-Celeste_.

I shove the knife back into my belt and start out. Swinging my axe by my side I whistle nothing in particular. Just a little tune. I walk about for a while, making sure to keep note of where the tree is. I come upon a bushy area full of vegetation. I sit down on a patch of grass, find a rock, and start to sharpen the blade of my axe.

I hate the sound of the scraping rock against metal. I hated it all my life. Just like when a teacher was out of the classroom and the naughty kid would go up to the board and scratch his fingernails against it. It would send everyone into a shivering fit. It always made my ears feel like they were bleeding.

I keep scraping until the blade could cut a hair. I hold it up to my face and examine the craftsmanship. _Pretty good_, I think to myself.

I get back up and start back towards the tree. It's a good think I have a good sense of direction. As I come upon it, I see Kailey leaning against the trunk. She raises her eyebrows as I reach her.

"Hey. So, I'm gonna go out for a run… you wanna come?"

"Uh. Sure? Let me grab my bag…"

She holds out her hand, grasping a strap of my bag. I take it from her, slowly. Looking her in the eye, I raise an eyebrow and sling the bag over my back.

I stand in the bathroom. Staring at my reflection, I think. Do I want to change who I am? Of course I do. But I like how I am, also. How could just dying my hair make such a big difference in my life? Because that's not who I am.

Kailey is behind me, looking through a drawer of cosmetics. It's somewhat silly that she would still want to wear makeup at a time like this.

**WOOOOO! I JUST GOT BACK FROM THE DENVER COMIC CON! I GOT MY TWD 'SURVIVOR'S GUIDE' SIGNED BY THE ILLISTRATOR. AND I SAW TWO PEOPLE DRESSED UP AS DARYL DIXON AND A GRIMES FAMILY! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Sorry.**

The wooden door creaks as a result of rusty hinges. Taking careful steps down the stairs, neither of us make any noise. I hold my axe behind me at an angle, ready to strike a blow to any geek's head.

I learned that name from Kailey, "geek". Not like geek, with the glasses, teacher's pet, and etcetera. She probably meant geek as in, you know, geeks are obsessed with zombie stuff, I guess. Sure. Why not?

Well, anyways. We sneaked down the stairs, all ninja position. Kailey was doing the same as me but with a baseball bat she had picked up on the front porch of the Colonial style house. The bottoms of my boots hit each bloody step with a _slurp_.

We make it to the bottom. I scan the living room for any more geeks. We had killed three when we got here. Kailey said it was her cousin's house. She needed to grab something so I just went upstairs and told her about the hair stuff and everything just sorta went its own way.

"What was it you needed to get?" I ask, still looking around.

"I can't remember…"

I sigh, "Well, you wanna go or…"

"No. Let's look around a bit," She goes past me into the kitchen and starts to through open cabinets.

I turn around and cruise the living room. There is an overly plushed, brown, couch facing a flat screen TV. One of the dead bodies lies on the floor, face down. A young girl's. She may have been a little older than me.

"Hey, Kailey?!" I yell over my shoulder.

"What?"

"Is this your cousin?"

I hear the shuffling of her feet and she peeks around the corner of the wall, "What? Oh, yeah…"

She walks over next to me and crosses her arms, "She was kinda a bitch," she remarks and walks back to the kitchen. I follow her.

She already has a stack of food on the island. The stack consists of chips, stale cereal, jerky, and Cheese Its. Not bad.

We pack the food into my bag, go out front, get in the car, and start to drive back. Halfway there, I stop the car and turn to Kailey.

"What were you really there for?"

She sighs, "I wanted to see if they were alive,"

"You just said that your cousin was a bitch…"

She doesn't look up at me, "Celeste, they were family!"

"I wouldn't know," I say, looking away from her.

I can feel her gaze rise up to my face, "What?"

I don't say anything. I just take off my jacket and hold out my arm. Kailey gasps.

"Celeste, I didn't know—I'm _so_ sorry! I didn't know that—who did that?!"

I give a sarcastic laugh and shake my head, "My dad,"

I look up to her, my face hard. She swallows, and leans in to give me an awkward hug. I jug her back.

"Thank you."

**Ok! Sorry that was such a short chapter! I am on vacation and am really busy going on ferries to Canada! Yes, I'm bragging. Well, anyways, I made a fanfic on this other site and I want YOU to read it! It's another Carl/OC. Here's the link: Story/8181/Second-Death/ ENJOY BOTH OF THEM!**


	9. ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE

**OMEGERD you guys! It has been sooooooooooooooooooooo long since I updated (for me)! I have been on a three week vacation and this is my first time on the internet (yes at one in the morning (where i am))! i am working on the next chapter right now. it should be done in about a week, maybe less. i'm also working on adding in yet another OC submitted my Ame. She is gonna be super cool! PM me!**

**~VIV**


	10. Sorry

**Ok guys, sorry I have been making so many Author's Notes. But, the story is going to take longer because, guess what?**

**IT GOT F-ING DELETED! YAY! So, I get to restart my already perfectionated chapter! I just might have to hit my head repeatedly against a wall. **

**So, again, sorry it's taking an f-ing century to write this story. Also, PLEASE review! Because it makes me happy.**

**Thanks!**

**~Viv **


	11. Blind

**Hey guys! Well… that took a while. But I made a collage on of Celeste's outfit! The girl is somewhat what I want her to look like, but there were other people in mind so, whatever! But it might be ruining your vision of her beauteousness! So I warn you… deadline/set?id=86787559 And—AND! I have a tumblr-blrblr… blr….. tumblr! So, if you want, you can follow me! I only have like five followers because I had to delete my old one… So, my link is: And, my little friends, I am uploading my other Walking Dead fanfic! PLEASE read it! It is a LOT better than this! I have the first chapter done and I have the next three being written! ANDANDANDANDAND *dramatically gasps* I made a Percy Jackson fanfic! All of your heads are exploding with rainbows filled with percabeth fluff! I'll shut up now…**

When we get back to the tree we find a little surprise waiting for us.

Everything is gone. Our bags, everything is gone.

"Great. Just great," remarks Kailey, "But who would've taken them?"

When she says this I immediately think Carl. Carl did it. But I try to get him off my mind. He let me go without complaint this time. He's probably forgotten about me by now. Well, it's only been four days. And I am _definitely_ _not _going crawling back to him. Again.

Suddenly, there is a loud rustling coming from high above our heads, "Birds?" I ask Kailey.

She shakes her head, "Not anymore,"

It's too big to be a bird anyway. A walker couldn't have gotten that high. Well, I doubt they can even climb trees!

"Walker!" suddenly erupts from behind me.

I spin on my heels to see Kailey slamming the butt of her baseball bat into the forehead of a walker. It struggles against her but soon enough the handle is buried deep inside its head. Its pale eyes stare into space as its jaw hangs loose, as if trying to register what happened. Before it can, the body turns limp.

Kailey pushes herself off of the twice dead carcass. She turns to me smiling and brushing a strand of hair out of her face, "That wasn't too bad—"

She is cut off as a walker throws itself at her, knocking her to the ground. She lets out a blood-curdling shriek as the walker snaps at her face. I am just about to pounce on it as I am knocked down as well.

I look into the pale eyes of the dead, rotting body on top of me. But, wait. The eyes are darker than they should be. They aren't white; they are an icy blue all the way to the core of their pupils. And the body isn't rotting it isn't trying to eat me, it's trying to _kill_ me. And there is another thing. It's alive.

I try to tell the living person on top of me, practically trying to shove a knife through my temple, that I'm human, I'm not a walker. But, it comes out as more of a muffled scream. The eyes, hovering just above mine, narrow, followed by a low growl.

The person throws themselves off of me and, instead, throws itself on the walker on top of Kailey. I retrieve myself from the ground and watch, awestruck.

From here, I can see that it's a girl. She is small. Extremely skinny and young. As she brings a knife singing through the air, into the walker's head, blood splatters her pale face. Her short, chin-length, dirty-blonde hair gets sticky with the red fluid.

"Walker! Walker! Walkerwalkerwalker!" Kailey yells as the small girl pushes the walker off of her body. I regain my senses and rush over to her, pulling her up from the ground and slapping my hand over her mouth. Yeah, Kailey thinks she's a walker. I can't blame her. If I hadn't looked close enough, I would have thought so too. Her eyes cold down to the pupil. You may have guessed already. And if you guessed that she was blind. Well, may I politely state that you have a wild (in the bad way) yet clever mind.

And that you are right.

_That_ is why I covered Kailey's mouth. Because this tough little bitch was gonna kill us. To death. Seriously. And if Kailey had made any sound as much as moving a toe, that little girl would kill us both. For being so young, she was tough. She looked like she had been on her own for a while. Her faded jeans had been torn around her knees, which were caked with blood.

With my hand still over Kailey's mouth, I, every so quietly, bend down. The girl doesn't seem to notice. My fingers close around a small rock. I straighten up and throw it, high above the girl's head. It soars through the air and comes to a landing, crunching enough leaves to get her attention.

Her head spins around and so does she. She starts to walk in that direction. I take my hand off of Kailey's mouth. I let out a sigh.

Oops.

The girl spins on her heels and speed-walks toward us, a nasty grimace on her face.

"Wait, wait!" yells Kailey, "We aren't walkers!"

The girl stops in front of us and crosses her arms, "You think I don't already know that?"

Both of our jaws hang open.

"Holy shit…" murmurs Kailey.

The small girl holds out a hand, "I'm Brigit,"

**Weeeeeeew! Really short chapter because I felt like I was leaving you hanging. I am working on sooooooooooooooooooo many stories right now! And—the best thing has happened to me! Three of my friends and I are making a Camp Half-Blood! If you don't know what that is, you have no social standing. Soooo, if you live in Denver, Colorado and know someone ages 7-12 who likes Percy Jackson, email us at .eisenhower We will email you back the details!**


	12. Stay

**Hello people! So, I hope you've read my other two stories (My Blood and Second Death). One is another Walking Dead (Second Death) waaaaayyyyy much better than this one; the other is a Percy Jackson and the Olympians (My Blood). I REALLY hope you'll at least read the first chapter! Well, enjoy!**

I slowly stretch out my hand, gingerly grabbing the young girl's. She shakes it and wipes her hand on her shirt, smearing the blood more and more. She reaches out for Kailey's hand. But she is too stunned to do anything. I nudge her and she looks over at me, eyes widened, as if I surprised her. I nod towards Brigit.

Kailey opens her mouth, finally understanding. She reaches her hand out gingerly. The girl takes it shakes it. Normally I would have expected her to at least flick a small smile, but she keeps her face set. She seems to have been out for long enough for her face to stay this way for as long as she can bear it. No, no, not as long as she can bare it. She _has _to keep it that way. She may have the most intensive urge to laugh but keep her face guarded.

She looks at each of us—well, her eyes move to set on each of us.

"Well?"

Kailey and I look at each other, _What?_

Kailey seems to get it, though, "Oh! I'm… My name is Kailey. This is Celeste,"

The small girl wrinkles her nose, "I have your stuff," She says this as if she really doesn't want to give any of it back. But both Kailey and my eyes light up. Brigit turns on her heels and holds her hands out in front of her and walks up to a tree, the small pale hands groping at it and sliding up its bark. She cautiously moves her foot around to find a low branch to perch herself upon. She continues this, hoisting herself up upon branch after branch. Becoming nearer and nearer to the top of the tree.

She is so far away now that I can't see her. Or hear her.

"Brigit?" I call up cautiously. No reply.

A bag drops through the trees to the ground. My duffel bag. Next to it lands a rolled up sleeping bag, then two backpacks. Silence. Then a girl drops down, her black and white converse thumping against the red Georgia Clay.

Kailey and I rush over to the pile and begin picking up our stuff. Brigit stands and stares straight ahead. I keep forgetting that she's blind. She's staring into space like she's seen a fucking ghost!

I shake my head, getting the somewhat creepy thought out of my head. Kailey and I straighten up and look at the girl. I turn my head to her and she turns her head to mine. We lock eyes. Kailey nods her head to the side, away from the girl.

"Um, Brigit?" The girl turns her head to me, tilting her head slightly, her face hard, "We'll be right back. Um, I need to—um we, uh…"

Kailey helps me, "She can't find her axe,"

"She has it in her belt." Brigit says simply.

I open my mouth, gaping, and then let out a small, "Oh,"

"Well were gonna talk for a minute," Kailey leads me away from the girl. We stand behind a larger tree. I start.

"You think she's safe?"

"Well she's not _safe_. She's definitely dangerous, but that could be an advantage,"

"Or a serious mistake," I add this in, looking her in the eyes, giving her a warning look.

"She's only—what? Nine? Ten?! Celeste, I know she's dangerous but she can't live on her own forever,"

I let that sink in. A ten year old girl, on her own, in the zombie apocalypse. Well, she's made it this far. But how much farther can she go? It's going to get harder. More walkers, more deaths. More little girls dying before they even get their first kiss.

"Fine," I say, regretting it immediately.

Kailey gives a smile out of the corner of her mouth, "You won't regret it."

Pun intended. ** That's not a pun, idiot!**

I sigh and make my way over to the young girl, she roams around, she looks as if she can see everything. She can see the trees, the redness of the Georgia clay. The puce-green outlined with gold as the hot summer sun shines through the thin, tear-shaped leaves. She can see Kailey, her natural features, skin shining with a warm glow, her big, brown eyes, the foundation of her skin perfect. Not too tan, not too pale.

Then she'd see me.

My high arched eyebrows, the pale skin, the unnatural, purple tint of my eyes. The way, my nose turns up making my smile, form into a look of stealth, slyness, and wittiness.

Yuck.

The girl wants to see so badly. I can see it in the way her eyebrows go slightly up in the middle. She looks so sad. Her face doesn't show much emotion, but it's in her eyes. The eyes that don't see. I wonder how you can fit all the sadness and beauty in the world into two one inch eyes. How can one show emotion through their eyes when they have no control over them?

But the girl's eyes also show something else. They show all the happiness in the world. The sadness and happiness can mix and create beauty. All of that beauty is in her. The small, four foot high girl can take it out of everything and let it explode inside of her. She may not be able to look, but she can see better than anyone else. _She_ can see all of the sadness. _She_ can see all of the happiness. _She_ can see all of the emotions in every living creature. This girl is special. This girl _can _see.

* * *

"Brigit," Kailey eases herself closer to the girl, "You can stay, you know…"

Three girls sit in a circle, surrounding a small fire. Over it, on a homemade spit, churns a skinned rabbit. The blind one had caught it.

She speaks, "What do you mean?"

"You can stay… with us," I ease in.

The small girl, named Brigit, looks down, her legs tucked up to her chin. She twirls her finger in the dirt, "I stay alone,"

Neither I nor Kailey speak.

"I don't like other people." She puts more emphasis into her words.

"You saved my life," The brown haired girl says.

"That doesn't mean that I like you! I was saving your life, not proposing to you!"

"Then why did you stay?" I almost yell.

The cold-blue eyes hollow out. The eyebrows above them furrow. Her chin sets and she almost wrinkles her nose at me.

The eyes venture up to my face, widened, eyebrows still knit, "Okay."

Finally!

Kailey's shoulders drop, her face relaxes. I can only guess I do the same.

There is a long silence. There is no noise, except for the crackling of flames and the rustle of wind through trees. Kailey breaks the ice.

"So, Brigit, how old are you—well, why don't we tell each other our stories?"

She gives a smile, "I'll go first!" She straightens up, her legs crossed like a small child in grade school, "I was born here in Atlanta. Um, I had a mom and a dad. Single child. Normal life. Had plenty of friends. Then the whole _thing_ happened. Lost track of my family. Yeah, been on my own ever since—until I found you."

Her story was pretty simple. She looks over to me.

"Oh, um. My name is Celeste Michelson. I was born in Wakefield, Rhode Island. I had an—um, abusive father, and an alcoholic mother—"

"My uncle was abusive." Brigit buts in. She looks at me as if saying I should go on.

"Well, I went on a field trip to Atlanta in fifth grade. We were told to get in the buses. And the teacher in my bus was the first to be killed. We heard about the disease a few days after we had arrived. I knew my parents were gonna die. I was happy about it. I didn't want them to come get me or to hold me, to be worried about me. I got away, with this guy, Hunter, Ryan, Bryce and Misty, Cecelia, and Matt. We got away. Ryan, Cecelia, and Matt were bitten, them Bryce and Misty ran away during the night. Hunter was bitten. I found the prison and I met the group there. I tried to run away but I was stabbed. We went on a run to the mall. Then I found Kailey. The "Governor" tried to kill us, and then it kinda turned out to be this," I make a small gesture with my hands.

Brigit is quiet for a minute, then she speaks up, "My turn."

**Well, that's it for chapter twelve (this is chapter twelve right, or is it eleven?). Well keep reading if you want a spoiler alert for later on if you've been wondering if Celeste is going to reunite with the prison group:**

**Yes. Celeste will eventually reunite with the prison. I'm thinking within the next few chapters. Probsies by chapter fourteen (If this is truly chapter twelve). If this is chapter eleven, then I'm thinking by chapter thirteen.**

**THANKS FOR READING!**


	13. Twenty Questions

**Hey guys! So, I read the comments, and to respond to TerraCrossSalas, all I can say is: Aw, hun. And with the winky face, asdfghjkl! No. No, bad! No. I can't deal with what goes through my head when I think of the sexual—I mean, friendly tension between Carl and Celeste now. Wink, wink.**

**Nice going.**

**To respond to Regina D, thank you so much! I've never been really confident to let my stories go out into the world. I really appreciate that lots of you guys really ****_do_**** love my stories! Thank you so much for being great readers!**

"I lived with my uncle and little brother, Oscar since I can ever remember.

"He used to hit us. It made Oscar nicer, I guess it hardened me. I was the smallest kid in school. No one liked me because I punched a boy in my class who tried to hit me. I guess I upset him. Everyone sort of just left me alone from then on. Oscar was only four when the disease spread. We were finally away from our uncle. Then we got separated. I have been searching for him for three years."

Kailey and I hang onto every word.

"I found a dying man. He had gotten bitten. He said that he had seen Oscar with two men. He was happy with them. I still have been looking for him, though. Even if he's happy with them, he'll be happier with me."

Silence. Wow! And I thought that _my_ life sucked!

"What?!" yells Brigit.

I'm taken aback. _Am I supposed to say something? _"I'm so sorry, Brigit," comes out of my mouth.

"Yeah," she says as if it's obvious, "Well. I'm going to bed. You guys can stay up if you're willing to get eaten by walkers that have learned to climb in the morning."

She climbs up our tree. We had been sitting in a small circle at the base of it. She feels around at the branches and climbs.

"Um… Okay," mutters Kailey as Brigit settles herself in her spot.

"Do you just wanna find another tree?" I ask quietly.

"Well, _I_ am definitely _not_ sleeping in the same tree as her,"

I sigh, "Fine, but tomorrow morning, if I'm still alive by then, you are promising to sleep with her that night,"

Kailey nods, "Deal," I climb up the tree and through down her bag and sleeping bag. She climbs the tree next to us and finds a crook in the branches to settle in.

I take off my jacket and wrap it around my shoulders. Brigit is fast asleep.

I think to myself something I DO NOT want to think of right now.

Carl.

Fuck. I'm sorry but it is urgent that I drop the f-bomb now. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

This is the last thing that I want to be thinking about. Why am I even? And why now?

I can't stop thinking about what they are doing there. Does he remember me at all? Of course he does. But does he miss me?

Oh god.

No. I did _not_ just think that! NO!

Well, I doubt it. I mean I was kind of, you know, a bitch to him. Well, he should meet Brigit!

Oops, that wasn't nice!

Yeah, I guess now I am a bitch.

My eyelids grow heavy and my eyes dry. The icy air nips at my nose. I let my eyes close. They begin to sting though. I hold them closed as my eyes begin to water. Whatever. I'm going to sleep.

* * *

"Wake up! Or do you want to get eaten by the tree climbing walkers!"

I moan and roll over, "Yeah, well, they can reach you easier on the ground,"

"Get up stupid!"

A hand shoves me so hard I almost fall out of the tree.

"It's already ten!"

I moan again and look up. Brigit is perched on a nearby branch, "Well get up!"

I move so that my legs are dangling over the edge of my branch and I am leaning against the trunk of the tree. Brigit climbs down in a flash and I crawl down after her.

* * *

**Author's P.o.V:**

"Is it the golden snitch?"

"The what?"

"Come on! Don't tell me you don't know what the golden snitch is!"

"It's from Harry Potter!"

"Listen, I was only seven when the world went to hell. I probably wasn't old enough to read Harry Potter,"

"I don't know, I read them when I was seven,"

A black GTO creeps along a highway through the middle of Atlanta. Three girls sit in the car. One eleven (twelve in three days) and two thirteen (one fourteen in a month and fifteen days, one fourteen in five months and six days). One named Brigit, one Celeste, one Kailey. One blonde, one raven, one brunette. All going the same place, though. All doing the same thing: playing twenty questions.

Apparently, Brigit has never read the Harry Potter series in her short life. Celeste may be wondering about this as Kailey complains that, even at Brigit's adolescent age of departure of "normal life", as some would call it, they were, and still are, a "must read for kids your age!"

"Well, is it the Golden Snitch or not?!" Celeste almost yells, agitated. Kailey and Brigit, who sit in the back, are taken aback.

"Well, it seems like it's _someone's_ time of the month…" Brigit says.

The driver stays silent. _Like water off a duck's back, like water off a duck's back,_ she repeats in her head.

Where the girls are heading to, they all had agreed on a month ago.

Two months have passes since Brigit has joined the group.

"And, no. It is not the Golden Snitch," She says grabbing the upholstery of the back of Celeste's seat and pulling herself up to the side of her head.

"Fine. I give up."

"It's a beetle, idiot!" the blind one exclaims, "God, do you _have_ to make it so hard?"

_Two hours!_ Kailey thinks to herself, _it's been two fucking hour_s_!_ _When are we gonna get there!?_

As if on cue, a long, rectangular shape silhouettes itself against the rising sun. The black outline of the main building, its wings, and watchtowers.

The prison.

**Ok guys! Really short chapter, I know! I'll be updating soon! It's just that it's midnight where I am, so I should probably get to bed! BYE!**


	14. There and Back Again

**Hey guys! So, I know that some of you (that inapropro person that wants Carl to "cum" so badly) are ready for the Carl/OC love! Don't worry lovies (I sound British). There will be some soon. I just like to make you suffer J**

**Also, I wanted to say thank you so much to Lily! I am so glad that my stories make you happy (again). It makes me so freaking happy when I make other people happy and they ****_actually tell me_****. I'm so proud to have you guys as readers. (Also I added in the Harry Potter thing cus I'm a really big nerd! I'm even going to a comic con, out of state, for my birthday with my nerd friend instead of a birthday party!)**

**MORE NOTES! THE FREAKING WALKING DEAD SEASON FOUR TRAILER CAME OUT TODAY! I'M GONNA FREAKING DIE! ( I'm righting this on 7/19/13)**

**Kailey's P.o.V**

Celeste walks in front of Brigit and me, leading the way to the entrance of Cell Block C. We jog at a steady pace, killing walkers casually as we run past them. We come upon a large gate. At it stands a boy no older than I. He sees us and his eyes widen.

"Miss me, Carl?" asks Celeste.

The boy stands, awestruck. He quickly grasps the gate and pulls it to the side, just wide enough for us to fit through.

He can't speak. He stares at her as he pushes the gate back closed.

He turns to her and stares with his mouth agape.

"Um. Hi," he says in a squeaky voice.

"Well Carl," Celeste puts her hands behind her back and rocks on her heals, "I should introduce you to my group,"

She says "my group" in a cold manner, but proud. She is showing us off.

"This is Kailey," she gestures to me, "and Brigit," she gestures to her.

I blush a little when she says my name. The boy, Carl I guess, looks me straight in the eyes. I haven't been looked at by a boy in years.

"_Don't_ stare at her," Celeste exaggerates the "don't" loudly and clipped.

"He has nothing to stare at," says Brigit, "He knows I'm blind so what else is there to know?"

Carl turns to Celeste, his dark blue eyes shining. He has a mop of overgrown, brown hair covered by a sheriff's hat. He takes the hat off and brushes his bangs back, "Jesus shit, Celeste!" he whispers, putting the hat back on.

He turns to me, "Um, hi… Kailey,"

_Oh shit!_ "Hi," I squeak out.

He swallows and smiles at me. Then, he turns to Brigit, "Hello, Brigit…"

"Hi," she says, shortly.

"CARL!"

The sound comes from high above our heads.

"Oh _fuck_!" hisses Carl.

I look up. The bright, white sun blinds me, so I shade my eyes. Silhouetted against the light is a woman. Short grey hair, thin, middle aged. She holds a gun, which makes her look probably more badass then she was years ago.

She stands on the roof of one section of the building, peering down closely. From here, I can almost see her face brightening, "Well look who's back!" She cracks a smile, "Come one Carl let her in!"

Carl turns to us, "Well, that went better than I thought it would! I guess you just… come… in…" he awkwardly leads us to a small set of steps leading up to a door. He opens it and leads us into a large corridor. A cell block. Sitting in the commons room, many people sit. Like, a lot! Boys and girls. Young and old. With and without weapons.

"Well, _damn_!" Celeste whispers, "What happened while I was gone?"

"Ohh, well that's a long story,"

"Okay," I reply.

The boy spins his head around to see me. He blinks and replies, "Okay."

**Oh my god guys! I'm sorry but I just got really bad writer's block with this story! BTW, I am making yet another TWD fanfic! I'm not sure what to call it. So, I'll tell you the plot and YOU give me ideas!**

**There's this girl (don't know the name yet, give me suggestions for that too!). She's really strange. I want her to be like River from Firefly. You know, really quiet and high pitched voice, freaks out a lot. She's kind of crazy (like in the head). So! Tell, me what you think for the name of the story and the main character!**


	15. OH MY GOD ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE!

**Hey peeps! So, I got a comment saying that Brigit's name is spelled Bridget. Yeah, I know, but I guess that you can also spell it Brigit. Also, I'm sorry I haven't updating. I know I've been leaving so many author's notes, but I'm really caught up in my other story, so it might be a while. But the other one is coming along really well, so I'd read that! I've been having bad writer's block with this story :(. Well, anyways, I've made a template for the new story. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE tell me what you think! I won't judge ;) **

**I will happily take any requests!**

**(I might already have her hair color, but still give me a request)**

**Title:**

**Gender: Girl**

**Name:**

**Age: 12-13 yrs.**

**Complexion:**

**Height:**

**Hair Color:**

**Hair Length/Style:**

**Eye Color:**

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**Ok! So, I already have her backstory and everything. So, PLEASE either leave a review with this or send me a PM! And sorry if I don't include ****_everything_**** you put in. Thanks so much!**

**~Viv**


	16. OHMYGODI'LLPOSTANEWCHAPTERTODA Y!

**Hey guys! I have gotten some amazing reviews! Mostly about the new story (which I am starting) but one in specific that made me almost cry, it was so sweet! (Whomever posted this, I need to know who you are because you made my day by saying this!): Well, I'm not going to say what they said, but it was so nice to hear it and I felt like I could relate with you! This person put their name under guest but I really need to know who you are so we can talk more! I haven't moved houses since I was three but I do know what it's like to be shy and not want to talk about some stuff you feel. But even on here, I can make my characters feel what I've been feeling. They may be mad in a time that I need to get my anger out, or they may be sad in a time when I'm feeling sad. But, one thing I wasn't doing before that I am doing now is showing the characters being happy. In my other story, at first, Eli was quiet and nervous, but she grew attached to the group and began to feel happy. I know this is really cliché, but it's true. You never have to be afraid to show your feelings, especially when you're happy! And believe me, no one's ever going to judge you for showing your feelings. If you're happy, you can show anyone! Don't be afraid. You can tell me anything! The best part is that over this, I don't know what you look like nor do I care. You could be on the other side of the screen and look ugly or pretty, and I wouldn't care either way. Because it's about what you're feeling or saying, not about what you look like! And when I do post an author's not about you guys being so awesome and making me so happy, I'm serious! I wouldn't be saying it otherwise! I truly love you guys! I wouldn't be able to share my stories without you guys! I really want to encourage you guys to do this to, if that's what you want. I really hope you're okay with saying your name. I really love talking to you guys! I would just be a lonely girl at the computer otherwise! You guys don't stop being who you are and don't stop loving what you like! I wouldn't be here without you. I wouldn't—as I hope I do—make you guys happy. Because when I do, it makes me happy. I never got it when people said that making others happy made you happy. Well, now I do. **

**And you guys helped me realize that. **

**~Viv**

**That was really hard to get out. Well any way's, you can vote for some story stuff by going to my profile. Look for where I say: VIDEO!**


	17. Seven Minutes

**OMIGOD! I haven't updated in a million years! I've kinda been allergic to the internet because there was some complicated stuff going on. Well, anyways, I'm gonna use a brilliant idea that imawalker suggested. It's really good! I don't know if I'm gonna use it in this chapter or the next. We'll see how it turns out!**

**Kailey's P.o.V.**

To make a long story short, what happened throughout the whole time Celeste was gone was that all of the people from Woodbury were rescued by Carl's dad, Rick. The Governor is still on crazy rampage time but so far everyone's safe.

I've also been seeing some stuff go on between them. For instance, Carl will stare at Celeste when she isn't looking. She blushes every time he says something that might affect her personally (not majorly). You can tell they have a past—not a serious one. Maybe becoming friends for a minute or two, but all in all they pretend like they hate each other.

So far only an hour has passed, all of this has happened already.

I've moved into Celeste's cell. I'm top bunk. Brigit has her own cell. Rick doesn't really trust her. Well, he still doesn't trust Celeste at all! He is holding a big grudge against her for only living here before for three weeks! Plus!

I trusted her within seconds! Well, I wouldn't say that putting a knife to my throat was very trustworthy. But I helped her live. I scratch her back, she scratches mine.

Well it's also the middle of the night. At least I think it is. I lay on the thin, blue, foam, so called 'mattress'. Only a thin sheet to cover my freezing body. It must be late autumn. Its Mordor during the day and the fucking Arctic during the night. I _do_ have my jacket on over my body, but I haven't been in the apocalypse long enough to curl my body into a ball small enough to fit it under. My socked feet stuck out under the sheets. They are numb and red from the cold.

I try to erase my mind, leaving a blank slate. I close my eyes. Let the frigid air take me. I soon fall into unconsciousness.

* * *

**Celeste's P.o.V.**

"Ok Celeste, it's your turn,"

I blink my eyes, snapping me back into reality, "What?"

A few laughs.

"It's your turn," It's one of the boys from the prison, two years younger than me; I think his name is Chris. Sandy blond hair, lying in a mop over his eyes. Well, anyways, I guess it's my turn.

And if you're wondering what this thing is that I have to do, I'll tell you. It's to spin the bottle.

Yeah, the world's practically over, better make use of what's left—no, no I didn't mean it like that—whatever. You get the point.

I sigh, "Fine," I widen my eyes a little and add a tone that is not really appreciated around the crowd as I reach into the middle of the circle, grasp the old beer bottle, twist it and spin it in the opposite direction. It skids against the cold stone floor a little bit, spinning, spinning, spinning. It finally starts to slow down. Eyes stare hungrily at it. It comes to a stop. All eyes follow the invisible line that shoots from the mouth of the bottle to the kissing victim. My eyes follow the line as well. And I think I'd rather die than kiss the person at the end. Because the person at the end, well…

It's Carl.

"_Great_," I say slowly, under my breath.

Carl stares at the bottle then looks, wild-eyed, up to me. His mouth agape, his arms limp. He lets out a small squeak.

I roll my eyes, "Jesus Christ, Carl. Act your age!"

There are a few laughs.

Carl doesn't move.

"Fuck, Carl! It's not gonna be on the mouth!"

More laughter, louder this time.

Carl closes his mouth and swallows. He nods and shifts around so he's on his knees. I do the same. And tap my cheek, turning it to him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him lean in, then lean out. He licks his lips quickly. I scowl at him. He rolls his eyes and leans in, pecking my cheek.

He leans back out, sighing as if he might faint. "Was it that hard for you?"

Lots of laughter this time. Carl blushes bright red and slinks back to his place. I spin the bottle again. It lands on Brigit.

"It's on you B—"

"I know,"

Brigit leans forward and gropes around for the bottle. Her slender fingers curl around it and spin it. It comes to a stop, on that kid, Chris.

"It's on—

"I know, I know," Brigit holds her hand up and points straight across from her, Chris' green eyes trace the line straight to his chest. His head shoots straight up again, looking right at Brigit. Her expression is unreadable. Boredom, definitely. Embarrassed, not a trace.

Brigit gets onto her knees and shuffles forward a little, Chris does too. Brigit, slaps her hands onto either side of Chris's face, and gives him a hard peck on the mouth. There are gasps and a few "woah"s from around the small circle.

Well gosh.

Thirty minutes fly by. Yeah, a whole thirty minutes. None of the older people in the group have come to check on us or anything. I guess they trust the older ones in the group. Oh right! We are in the commons area. The adults, plus teens over sixteen have gone out to go kill more walkers.

Well, in those thirty minutes, whenever Carl or I spin the bottle, it lands on each other, save once when he spun and it landed on Kailey. I couldn't tell who was blushing harder. But so far, we've landed on each other a total of five times.

Carl happens to be spinning. Of course it lands on me. But this time I can't hold down anymore, "HOW THE FUCK!?"

Most of the younger kids flinch. There is a silence, then someone lets out a low whistle.

"HOW DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING!?"

"Who cares?" A boy about my age moans, "Just kiss and get it over with!"

I let out a sigh and hold out my hand. Carl stares dumbly at it. He grabs it and pecks the top of it.

Brigit leans over and whispers in my ear, "Hey, only one more 'til you get seven minutes in heaven,"

I clench my fists.

Ten more spins. It lands on me. The boy, the bratty one has to kiss me, he leans over and pecks me on the cheek. I turn to Carl, he looks at what must be a very interesting crack in the floor. _Jesus_.

I spin for the next person, lands on me (by coincidence). I take it and spin it again.

No fuck.

It lands on Carl.

I sigh again, standing up.

"Wait, what?"

"Seven minutes in heaven, idiot," One girl yells.

"God, don't be such a buzz kill!" I lean down and grab his arm, dragging him down the hallway and into a cell. I sit on the floor and bring my knees up to my chin, wrapping my arms around them. Carl stands in front of me.

There is a long silence before I take my head in my hands and say, "Shit, Carl, why'd you have to do this,"

Carl gets down on a knee. I lift my head so that both are at even height. Carl takes my head in his hands and presses his lips against mine. I'm startled at first, but keep calm. _Whoa there!_ I like the feeling of the warmth against my lips but I don't kiss back.

Carl seems to notice, he leans back, his elbows resting on his knee. He bites his lip. And looks down. I don't talk. I don't want to hurt him by saying anything, after all, this guy just kissed me—on the mouth. Carl opens his mouth, and raises his hands, then puts them down, pursing his lips.

I widen my eyes, he looks into them. I avert them quickly, "Was it bad?" he whispers, his eyes wide.

I laugh and shake my head, looking down then glancing up to his eyes. God, no. I don't like him at _all_! Why am I so naive? If I tell him, I'd be more than just hurting him, he'd be broken.

I stand up, looking down at Carl, I can feel tears starting to sting in my eyes.

He stands up, "Celeste," his voice is gentle.

I whimper and shove him aside as I push past him. I storm down the hall. Carl doesn't call out for me, he lets me go.

As I walk past the circle sitting in the commons area, I call out, "I'm going on a break, I'll be back,"

Brigit murmurs, "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

There is an eruption of laughter. I swing open the door to the tombs and give the group the middle finger before I shut it behind me. I grab a knife from my belt and grasp it, ready to stab. I start to cruise along the halls. The adults must have gotten most of the walkers. But right now, I need to kill something.

Carl has taken me on a tour of the tombs already. Were and were not to go. So, I know where I am. Two more rights to the cafeteria. I'll go there.

**K bros. That's it for now. Thanks for helping me with the new story. I've started it and it's going really well! :) **

**Also, I am going to make another story—not The Walking Dead, so when I have the first chapter (may be in a while) make sure to check it out!**

**Again sorry, for not updating in forever!**


	18. IMPORTANT: PLEASE READ!

**Hey, guys! I have my two stories ready. I just posted the new Walking Dead one so go check it out! I'll be posting my other one sometime this week. Check that one out to. I think its gonna be really good!**

**This will be my last Author's Note I promise!**

**~V**


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